


Save all my Kisses for You

by tisfan



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, First Kiss, M/M, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-11 17:58:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Let's play spin-the-bottle... in which Clint gets a little more than he bargained for... and exactly what he wants.





	Save all my Kisses for You

Clint stared at Jan in absolute horror. “You want to do what, now?”

Jan ignored him; not atypical. Most people did. Clint wasn’t sure he much fit in with the group of juniors and seniors that he hung out with. They’d all been in school together since second grade, and Barney and Clint had just joined them two years ago.

Barney was graduated last year, but Clint was trying to fit into the space Barney had left behind.

A chorus of cheers, lewd commentary, and wolf-whistles echoed in Clint’s ears, a rush of sound that made him want to clap a hand to the back of his neck.

 _Spin the Bottle_ , dear lord.

As a never-been-kissed sophomore, hanging with a bunch of upperclassmen? Could his life get worse?

It could. He could get his turn up with the bottle and have it land straight on Steve Rogers.

Steve. Rogers.

Clint could count the ways, on more than one hand, that this was a Bad Idea, capital bad, capital idea.

First of all, Steve Rogers was the captain of the football team, more than twice Clint’s size, who was scrawny even for a 15 year old. And if Clint did it wrong, he wasn’t entirely sure that Steve wouldn’t pop him in the mouth.

Second, Steve was dating Bucky Barnes, who was one scary bastard. And was totally giving Clint the stink eye, like Clint had anything to do with which way the bottle landed, because if he did, it would totally have landed on --

Reason three, the guy Clint actually had a crush on; Phil Coulson. Understated, casually handsome, agile, smart. Witty, with an incredibly dry sense of humor and as far as Clint could tell, an inability to give up. Stubborn, sneaky, determined. He wasn’t drop-over gorgeous the way Rogers was, or even the beautiful grace that Barnes had nailed down. Phil didn’t draw the eye, at first, but one he did, once you noticed the glint of humor in his sharp blue eyes, the firm, gorgeous jaw, the cockeyed little smile, you couldn’t look away. Or at least, Clint couldn’t.

Reason four: that crush was going exactly nowhere, because Phil had a thing for Steve Rogers. Everyone knew it, it was the joke around school, and Phil never denied it. Phil had a tee-shirt with the school colors on it; that had Roger’s freaking name on the back. He had Roger’s football photo framed inside his locker. He had customized Steve Roger’s trading cards.

It would have been cute if it hadn’t been so personally painful.

And Phil was currently staring at Steve with a look of utter betrayal, as if…

As if Phil didn’t want anyone else kissing Steve who wasn’t Philip J. Coulson.

Everyone else was staring at Clint.

Oh. Right. He was supposed to commit social suicide and kiss Steve bloody Rogers.

Clint took a deep breath and hoped he’d brushed his teeth that morning (he honestly couldn’t remember! Which probably meant he hadn’t.) and crawled across the circle.

Perhaps the only good thing, the only thing that had gone right all evening, was that Steve met Clint a little less than half way. Didn’t draw back in disgust, or make Clint pass across the entirety of the circle like some sort of supplicant.

Clint. Had no idea how to kiss someone. It looked easy on movies, but… which way did he turn his head, and was Steve actually expecting Clint to stick his tongue in Steve’s mouth? Did Clint even want to?

Didn’t matter. Clint lunged forward, determined to get it over with before he chickened out. They bumped noses, which Clint might have expected, except he didn’t, and he opened his mouth to make a joke just before Steve’s mouth came in contact with Clint’s teeth.

“ _Mmmph_.”

Steve did something with his mouth, Clint had absolutely no idea _what_ , and he found himself in the utterly astonishing position of having a mouthful of Steve’s tongue and no goddamn clue what to do _now_.

On the plus side, Clint didn’t seem to have to do anything with Steve’s tongue, because Steve sat back on his heels before Clint was finished with the whole being shocked into stillness.

Steve looked… weirdly satisfied.

Clint’s mouth was tingling, like he’d eaten pizza with red peppers shaken over the top. His lip felt… weird. He pressed his fingers to his lower lip, a bit confused, but grateful that it was over.

“ _You call that a kiss?_ ” Bucky scoffed. He wrapped both arms around Steve’s neck like some sort of demented octopus and stuck his tongue so far down Steve’s throat it looked like he was performing an amateur tonsillectomy.

The bottle went around again, and again. Clint managed to peck Natasha on the cheek, because  no one in their right mind kissed Natasha unless she wanted them to, and Clint wasn’t sure she wanted him to. Better mocked than dead.

Phil kissed Jan on the mouth with a quick, smacking sound and then kissed her forehead before she backed away. That was sweet, got a bunch of _awwwws_ from the group.

Thor kissed with such enthusiasm that Clint ended up on his back under a ton of big, blonde viking and a desperate hope that that was Thor’s hammer and not that Thor was that happy to see him.

He still hadn’t figured out what to do with his tongue; with Thor, he just kept his mouth open and prayed that he didn’t drown.

When Phil spun and the bottle pointed at Tony Stark, Clint thought he was going to die, but Phil merely kissed Tony on each cheek, like he was the Godfather or something. Every time Steve had the bottle, or Phil spun it, Clint was praying. He really, really didn’t want to see Phil kiss Steve.

The game finally broke up, and Clint stuffed his hands in his pockets as he headed out to walk home.

His first kiss -- more than one. Wasn’t he supposed to feel something aside from slightly terrified and exceptionally uncomfortable?

Someone grabbed his elbow and Clint whirled, suddenly more than a little concerned that Bucky Barnes was going to rip his tongue out by the roots or something. “Phi-- Coulson? What?” His heart was going a mile a minute, and it wasn’t just residual panic. God, Phil probably wanted to lecture him. Thought Clint had a crush on Steve or something and wanted to make sure Clint wasn’t going to wander into the realm of pining after Steve.

“Was… was, um, that your first kiss?”

“That obvious?” Clint shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, pulling in on himself and wanting to sink into the pavement underfoot.

Phil shrugged. “Jan seems to feel we all need some help, kissing. You know, before we end up at the end of a nice date and screw it up by not knowing what we’re doing.”

Clint considered that, tilting his head to one side. “Okay, that makes sense, I guess,” he admitted. He was pretty sure it hadn’t helped him, but the theory was sound. Kinda.

“I always thought,” Phil said, “that if it was a good date, and that you really liked the person, and they really liked you, maybe it wouldn’t matter that you were figuring out what to do, together.”

“Yeah? That why you didn’t actually kiss anyone?” Clint said. He kicked a rock in his path, took a few skipping steps forward and kicked it again, trying to keep the stone rolling down the white line on the side of the road.

“I’m saving it up,” Phil said, easily. “There’s only one person I want to kiss.”

“You know he’s not gonna let you, right?” Clint pointed out. Really, that was a target that Phil was never going to be able to hit; there was a big, angry Bucky Barnes in the way. And Bucky was the jealous type, everyone knew it.

“Oh,” Phil said, like he was hurt. “Oh, I guess… I thought…”

“You thought what? That Bucky’s gonna step aside and let anyone else touch what’s his?”

Phil blinked. “What? No, _oh, my god_ , no,” Phil said. “You think I have a crush on _Steve_?”

“Oh, come on, you don’t have to lie to me about it,” Clint said. “You practically wear his _underwear_. Everyone know.”

“Low blow, Barton,” Phil said. “I don’t have a crush on Cap. That’s a long running joke. I tried out for the cheerleading squad, freshman year. I blew the tryouts because I let the pyramid fall when Cap came out of the tunnel without his shirt on. It wasn’t because of him, it was because I had to sneeze. But no one remembers that part. No sense trying to tell most people the truth, they don’t listen anyway. I play it up because it makes Steve laugh, and we’re friends.”

Clint probably wouldn’t have admitted his relief under threat of torture. He glanced at Phil, sidelong. “Yeah?”

“It’s what happened. Ask Steve, if you want. Heck, ask Daisy. I don’t think she’s quite ever forgiven me for dropping her.”

They walked for a while as Clint digested that little fact. “So, uh… who are you saving that kiss up for?”

The look Phil shot at Clint was hot, knowing, and a little scared. “You haven’t figured it out?”

“Well, I… uh… know who I’d like it to be.”

“Yeah?” Phil said.

There was a convenient shadow near the stairs to the Barton apartment. Small and dark, and walls on two sides, the perfect place to push someone against a wall and find out what they tasted like.

“Yeah,” Clint said, roughly.

Phil might have been saving a kiss for someone he liked, but Clint had just kissed a few people he didn’t want to. He’d say this much for Jan, he wasn’t nearly so scared as he’d have been if this happened two days ago. He nudged Phil into the corner, nearly astonished at his own bravado. “Clint--”

“If you wanna save that kiss for someone else,” Clint said, “you might want t’ say so now, before I steal it.”

“Come and claim it, Barton,” Phil said. “It’s been waiting for you for at least a year now.”

Clint put his hand on Phil’s chin, feeling the soft skin, the prickle of barely-there stubble against the grain. Kept that sweet, perfect mouth still and steady. Brushed Phil’s lip with his thumb, just to see how it felt. Soft and lush and Phil’s lips parted in surprise. Clint had three whole kisses under his belt, but he felt huge and experienced and like he knew exactly what he was doing.

He still really didn’t, but Phil didn’t kick up a fuss.

Their lips met, warm and soft. Clint wasn’t sure when to open his mouth, what to do, so he just sort of stood there, one arm beside Phil’s head, the other one cupping the side of Phil’s face.

But he felt something. It wasn’t just the pressure, or the feel of Phil’s breath against his cheek. Clint was heated from the inside out. Like every inch of his nerves were concentrated on the two inches of his mouth that was pressed against Phil’s. He inhaled and Phil’s tongue darted out, brushed against Clint’s lower lip, like he was tasting a lollipop.

Clint pulled back a little, breathing harder. “Okay?”

Phil gave him a soft, trembling sort of smile. He reached up and touched his fingers to his lips, drawing Clint’s gaze right back there. “Yeah, that was… maybe we should try again? Just a little practice or something?”

Clint grinned, leaned in. “Yeah?”

Clint was pretty sure they’d figured it out by the fifth kiss, when he had his tongue inside Phil’s mouth and was tasting the inside of his cheek. They were both panting for breath, hands roaming, trying to find the best way to hold on, the best way to draw the most out of each other. Phil was sighing softly each time Clint’s mouth covered his, and Clint’s skin was on fire.

Phil shivered, took a deep breath, and leaned against Clint, resting his cheek on Clint’s chest as if to listen to Clint’s pounding heart. “Now, _that_ was a kiss.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think so,” Clint said.


End file.
